Alan Mason
Today was the day. Started just like any other, but then, why shouldn't it? Al was pretty used to getting up early and heading out on the road, catching a bus or hitching a ride or biking sometimes even. No rental places willing to loan their bikes out beyond town limits though. Which was fair enough, particularly considering where he wanted to go. It being a Thursday, there was some chance people would be heading out that way. It being the start of some strange collusion between certain men and some beasts... He wasn't going to be too hopeful. No one in High River was heading out the same time he was, it seemed, but he followed the better known roads, knowing that if he didn't catch a ride, he'd stand a better chance of getting a roof over his head before night fell if he stayed on well travelled roads.
As he walked, sometimes with his arm out and other times not really minding the wear on his feet, Al couldn't help his thoughts going again and again to the stories that kept popping up around him. Wild animals where they shouldn't be, well, that wasn't anything new. They escaped zoos and some wandered into the urban wilderness more than folks liked. But the number of them, and the variety, that was downright strange, not to mention the apparent reason they were wandering where they shouldn't be. Blue-eyed devils, he'd heard from a few mouths. Unnatural sympathy from others. And the ones who were trying for a laugh called them familiars, like what the witches in the medieval ages had. He'd seen one young girl curve two fingers below her lips and do her best impression of the great and mighty sorcerer, Tim. "Fangs!" He'd almost laughed himself, but who knew if it wasn't the truth?
Honestly, despite having seen the sights with his own eyes, he wasn't sure he could believe the stories. He'd sooner they weren't real than anything, but given the direction he'd picked to get away from it all, Al was more rather than less likely to be coming across a few animals of his own. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered why the hell he hadn't just continued on to Toronto. It was a big city, all urban sprawl and with enough smaller towns around it that the animals might content themselves with the people there instead of braving the 401... He'd just been feeling like he should turn around instead of going forward. All the trouble... But it hadn't been nearly as unstable when he stopped in High River as it was now. So that wasn't exactly a proper excuse. Too late now.
Al was just figuring out that it simply felt better to be heading back, even if it was a sideways sort of back, than it had felt staying where he was or moving on to Toronto when he passed the sign welcoming him to Okotoks. Had to be around noon by then, give or take an hour. His watch battery had run down over the winter and he'd forgotten to replace it. Good thing he wasn't likely to need it where he was heading. He knew it was over four hours he'd been walking though, and no one had felt like stopping for him. So it was going to feel nice to get off his feet a bit, pick up a meal, rest up, visit a bathroom... First restaurant he found, he told himself, or the first sign he could make out.
Tim's it was.
Every year Jack forgot how much he hated the drive out to the park. It took about three or four hours, depending on the weather and traffic...but that seemed like forever when it was so nice out and all he wanted to do was be at the park exploring. Digging rocks out of the stream, building a little dam, hunting snakes, or just lying in the sun.
He sighed and kicked a rock. Halfway there. If he was honest it wasn't just the drive that was bugging him. Missing the last few weeks of school, nearly a month, was kind of neat but also kind of not. Now he wouldn't get to see any of his friends until the fall, if then. He was going to miss the track and field day, movie day, and all the other fun end of school stuff they always got to do. It was his favorite part of the school year and he was missing it.
He felt a sudden shifting and wiggling in the pocket of his hoodie and grinned a bit to himself as a small red nose poked out of the hole, just the smallest tip of the nose, twitching and sniffing.
There was a consolation prize, and a pretty decent one at that.
Jack lifted his head from the pitted concrete and looked around. He'd finished his lunch quickly, and Uncle Danny had said he could go stretch his legs in the parking lot, as long as he stayed within sight of the window where his uncle was sitting.
The sky was the sort of vivid blue that promised of summer days, and it was pretty warm for this time of year, although Jack knew there was still bits of snow hiding under gravel piles in the shade. There was a gentle, if chilly, breeze ruffling his hair, and a little buddy hiding from sight in his pocket. It wasn't such a bad day after all.
He heard a scuff behind him, from the direction of the highway and turned around, keeping his eyes down like Uncle Danny had warned him to, and saw a man. Well, a man's boots anyways. Worn and beat up, and standing 20 feet away.
Tim's wasn't as popular as he'd been expecting, though that didn't necessarily mean anything, if it wasn't quite lunchtime. There was a time and a place, after all, to inundate Tim Horton's with customers. The schedule liked to persist even when strange things were happening. Well, best time to get out an ordering card was before he was standing at the register, and he had a few choices for lunch besides. Might change things up a bit.
He was paused and swinging his backpack free of his shoulders before he noticed the kid glancing his way, and offered the fellow an absent salute by way of saying hello. He probably didn't notice, staring at the ground like that. Well, that was fine.
Al whistled as he crouched beside the bag, an old Disney tune he couldn't remember the movie for, at least, he thought that might be what it was. Might just have been any old tune. Slinging his braid back over his shoulder out of the way, he started rummaging in the outside pockets for the index cards he used and then flicked through them, soup, sandwich or chili? Now that was an important question. He wasn't sure which he wanted though, maybe the kid knew this place well enough to be able to point out which one was their specialty. Not that Tim's changed much from town to town, but it was worth a shot.
Glancing up, he checked to see if the kid was still there, and changed his whistle to slide up, high pitched, maybe catch his attention that way. He waved him over once he had, and held up his cards questioningly.
Jack's head jerked up at the change in tune and he met the man's eyes for a fraction of a second before ducking his head again. The man had waved him over, and Jack knew he wasn't supposed to be rude to his elders...but he also wasn't supposed to approach strangers.
He glanced back towards Uncle Danny at the window, but his Uncle wasn't looking at him, he was talking to an older boy who had sat down in Jack's former seat. Jack looked back at the man, trying to keep his head down this time and moved towards him.
The old man was waving some sort of cards and Jack took another few steps forward to see what was on them.
Al blinked as the kid glanced up and showed his eye colour. They were a bit far away for him to be sure, so he figured he'd offer the benefit of the doubt, but he could have sworn he could see the blue from here. Sure and now he was being paranoid. What did he have to be afraid of a bunch of animal friendlies for? None of them knew him.
So when the kid inched closer after inspecting the area, maybe an adult was about somewhere, smart move that. Shouldn't be trusting strangers willy nilly, but Al didn't plan on trying anything. He just wanted help picking a lunch, and maybe a bit of a talk after nearly five hours of quiet. So he stayed crouching, so as to be less intimidating that way, and fanned the cards out, as far from himself as his arm could reach and pointed to each one in turn, raising an eyebrow questioningly while he did. They were all pretty similarly bent and smeared, even when written in pen, though the penmanship was at least as plain as possible, to make reading easier, and mostly the order was the same. Coffee or milk, chocolate glazed donut and ham and cheese sandwich. Or chicken noodle soup. Or beef stew, or chili.
Each of the cards seemed to have meals on them. Coffee, donut, sandwich. Jack's mouth pulled up at one corner as he thought. Why didn't the man just ask?
He stood there for a second, considering. Then had a flash of recognition. Oh! He must be deaf! Jack had had a deaf boy in his class the year before, they hadn't been friends or anything, but the whole class had learned a few things to make life a bit easier. Plus it had been kind of fun to have a secret language. The teacher had said it could be a kind of code, and the teacher Jack had had this year must be beating that guy up every night for giving them the idea.
It took another second of concentration, but Jack managed to remember the sign for hungry, and made it as he made a questioning look with his features. The teacher had stressed that facial expression was even more important than the signs you used, sometimes.
He couldn't remember any of the signs for food, and most of the ones he could remember were useless; pen, paper, book, hi, bye, and the alpabet pretty much summed up what he remembered.
Al waited, patient, for any hint of understanding or decision being made. He figured it wasn't too difficult a matter to figure out, but it was probably weird to be approached without words being said and have cards waved at you if you didn't know what was going on. He'd seen it before. What he hadn't been expecting was the sudden frown of concentration followed by rudimentary ASL. It made him grin, forgetting all about any worries concerning blue eyes, and he nodded, gesturing with a curled fist as well, that he was. Hungry, that is. Then, setting the cards on the ground a moment, he tried signing slowly. -You know sign language you?- Eyebrows up, question ending on a direct point towards the boy.
Jack nodded, pretty sure the man had asked if he knew sign language. He held his hand out and wobbled it back and forth, hoping the hand signal he knew for 'yes and no' would translate.
He pointed to the cards then slowly, and painstakingly, finger spelled -H-a-v-e. y-o-u. t-r-i-e-d. t-h-e. l-a-s-a-n-g-a- He'd had to guess at the spelling of 'lasagna', spelling was never his strong suit and he did much better if he could write a word out, or type it on the computer and have the word processor correct it.
Ah, just learning then. Well, in the interest of helping him along, Al figured he wouldn't tell the kid just yet that he could hear him. Might be a little bit of omitting the truth, but hey, it was proper incentive to practice what he knew. He had time to kill, and no need to rush. And conversation was conversation, even if it came along at a slow pace. The kid was trying, and he was pretty well succeeding, had to give him credit. Spelling all that out was hard on untrained muscles, he knew, he'd taught others before.
As soon as he'd deciphered the slow words, his lips pulled down consideringly and he tugged at his beard. He'd forgotten about that promo, hadn't seen a sign in a while or checked the menu. Hadn't figured on it lasting, but maybe it had. His hand came up to deny any attempt to deviate from his usual meal choices, and Al signed back the usual. -L-a-s-a-g-n-a (lasagna) good it?-
Jack caught the correct spelling, then nodded in reply before remembering to make a fist and tilt it as if it was nodding. The sign for 'yes'. He caught the sign for lasagna, and clumsily tried to make his hands repeat the gesture. He wasn't sure he'd gotten it quite right, but trying was half the battle - as Uncle Danny always said.
He nodded again, emphatically, then stuck out his belly and rubbed it as though he'd just finished a good meal. The closest he could get to 'yummy', a sign he didn't remember.
Suddenly, he realised he'd been looking at the man's face, making eye contact, and using his features to express what he'd wanted to convey - with the exception of the face he had made while concentrating.
Horrified, he met the man's gaze, then looked away, frantically trying to cover his eyes and knowing it was useless. And now he'd gone and made it worse by trying to hide it. There was no way he could fake that his eyes were naturally that color now.
He felt heat rush to his face as he flushed in a combination of fear, and embarassment. He had half-turned around when he felt the little strong body clamber out of the hoodie pouch and up the front of the sweater. He felt the little warm body nuzzling itself in between the bunched up fabric of the hood and his neck, tiny paws using his neck for balance, and the smallest flicker of a tongue on his earlobe.
No hiding it now, he met the man's eyes again with all the terror he felt rushing through him and preventing him from hearing anything other than the heaving thumping of his heartbeat.
With a grin, Al repeated the sign, then nodded firmly when the boy got it right. And couldn't help a small laugh, shaking his hands together just a bit apart, when he substituted what he knew for what he didn't. Well, he could understand that well enough too. Not everyone knew ASL, and really, it was close enough. So he gave the thumbs up and supposed that was what he'd order, since it came so highly reccomended. But even as he was leaning forward to pick his cards up, and trying to remember where he'd stuck his stub of a pencil, the kid's face shifted into something rather less than pleasant.
He found himself losing his humour as the boy's hands rose while he looked away, covering his eyes and then Al's own eyebrows rose. Of course! He'd been staring at it all along, one of those signs the news said to look for. Bright blue eyes... Well hell... He'd just been happy to have someone talking to him. But when he went to catch hold of the kid's shoulder, to try offering at least the reassurance that he wouldn't tell anyone, the other half of the deal made its appearance.
Al squinted to make out a bushy tail and beady little eyes and pointy ears. Was that a red squirrel? Well... best he not set his hand near it maybe. Plenty of national parks had warnings about squirrel bites, seemed strange until you saw the damage. Still, he leaned back on his heels, tugging at his beard when the boy looked back of his own accord. Then, he couldn't help it, he shrugged and set a finger to his lips before pointing at the squirrel and offering the toothy sign for the little animal.
He wasn't accepting it just like that. He couldn't, but he could decide that getting scared of a kid and his squirrel was maybe being a bit irrational. And starting anything that might lead to something worse happening, especially before he got his lasagna, when he hadn't seen the kid do any of the things everyone was getting all worked up about, seemed wrong.
Jack nodded slowly, uncertain and not sure if he'd completely understood the man's meaning...but hopeful since the man hadn't immediately recoiled, or shouted - um waved his arms? - for help, he wasn't going to freak out. Maybe he wasn't one of those psychos Jack has seen on the news beating up kids like him.
A tentative smile crossed his lips as the man made a sign that was obviously 'squirrel'. Jack imitated him, then reached up to his shoulder where the only part of his new friend's body that was protruding was the lithe red tail and scritched the little squirrel's head. He hadn't had a chance to name him yet, it had only been two days - and two days filled with terror, uncertainty, anger, and then hope. Too many things going on to give him more than a few waking moments with the little male who had leapt onto his head and then refused to let go.
Jack tucked the squirrel more carefully into the back of the hoodie. Now that he had woken up from his nap he knew the little fellow would be happy to hide underneath the bulge in the hood, his nose hidden by the folds of fabric. He was oddly intelligent for a squirrel...
Meeting the man's eyes again Jack smiled with a bit more certainty. Then motioned to the restaraunt and made the sign for hungry again, before he pointed to his Uncle and the boy at the four-top table. Hoping the man would understand the invitation.
He smiled back, hoping he wasn't making a big mistake but figuring that he could live with it if he was. The hesitance in that smile made it all the better seeing it, so maybe he'd leave off worrying for now. Just take a breath and try to relax, for all he suddenly had a million and one questions as to what the heck was going on. But a kid was hardly likely to know any more than he did. Unless this was some mass orchestrated cult or something, and it was all planned... Nah.
He started rummaging in his bag anyhow, thinking that it was about time he got a pencil and his pad of paper out. After all, he kept them for just this sort of occasion. But then the boy seemed to be extending an invitation his way, as he glanced towards a man and young fellow sitting right at the restaurant window. Family? And an open seat, or... Well, he had to go inside anyway, and it'd grow clearer once they got through the door if he was being invited to join them or if the kid was just reminding him that he'd started this whole thing because he was looking for lunch options.
So he grinned a little crookedly back and signed lasagna again, raising an eyebrow and nodding before slipping the index cards into the same pocket he'd pulled them out of and replacing them with the pencil and paper he'd been looking for before he stood up, swung the bag over his shoulder and stuck both items into a pocket. What's your name? I'm A-l.
Jack found he was understanding more than he thought he'd remembered. He repeated the sign for lasagna again, then when the other man signed what was obviously a question he caught the sign for name, which was enough to get it. Then the man had spelled out 'A-l', presumably his name. Al.
Jack thought for a second, then decided 'Jack' was a common enough name and, shrugging, spelled out 'J-a-c-k'.
He wasn't quite sure how to get accross that the man in the window was his Uncle, and spelling out whole sentences was a pain. So he just scuffed his feet as they walked across the pavement to the Timmies.
Jack knew there was a pretty good chance his Uncle would be upset about him asking the man to join them, but his Dad had always said that it was important to do the right thing especially when it was hard. In this case, he'd already seen the squirrel and hadn't freaked out, so Jack figured he'd just tell his Uncle nothing had happened and it would be ok. Hopefully.
Jack. Nice and simple. And short. He liked names like that. So, nodding, he held the door open for the young man he was going to think of as a friend for now, and moved to stand in line. He nodded when the kid pointed to the table again, making sure he saw the gesture, before heading over there. So it was an invitation, and he hadn't even been looking for one. Suited him fine, he liked company. And who knew, maybe he'd get lucky and they'd be heading his way. Hadn't he seen a well packed truck in the lot? Maybe that was this lot.
He could hope. Although it might not have been the best of ideas, travelling with one of them, provided nothing came of it, and the squirrel didn't bite him, he figured things would be allright. He couldn't keep from glancing over now and again, curious, and thought he caught the men doing the same with him, but a polite nod would have to suffice between them for now.
When it was his turn to order, Al handed over the new slip he'd written out, ordering a milk, 2% please and thank you, and his usual chocolate glazed donut with lasagna as the main course. It came well reccomended, and he was always up for trying anything once, so why not? After paying, and while he waited for his order to come up, he figured maybe it was best if he wrote out something quick to hand over right away. Ease their worries about him knowing the kid had a squirrel in his sweatshirt. So he scribbled a quick note before picking up his tray with a smile of thanks, and as soon as he set it cautiously down, he handed the pad over to the older fellow there. It was a pretty simple message.
Hi, I'm Al, met Jack outside. I won't say anything, just looking for some company. He figured waiting a bit on asking for a ride would make it seem less like blackmail....
